By any measure, the New Gwadar International Airport should have been a symbol of progress, a gleaming facility with the capacity to handle 400,000 passengers annually. Yet, in a city with a population of barely 90,000, the terminal stands largely unused, raising questions over priorities, planning, and purpose.
Built with $240 million in Chinese funding under the China–Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC), the airport was officially completed in October 2024. Sitting on the sun-scorched edge of Balochistan’s southern coast, the complex offers a strikingly modern contrast to the poverty, power shortages, and security checkpoints that dominate the surrounding region.
For the past decade, Beijing has poured billions into Gwadar and other parts of Balochistan, a province rich in minerals and strategically positioned on the Arabian Sea. Officials in Islamabad call CPEC a “transformational” project, promising jobs, development, and connectivity. But in Gwadar, daily life tells a different story: the city remains off the national electricity grid, relying instead on imported Iranian power or scattered solar setups. Drinking water is scarce, often trucked in or desalinated in limited quantities.
“This airport isn’t for Gwadar, and it’s not for Pakistan,” says political analyst Naveed Qureshi , speaking from Islamabad. “It’s for China , to give their citizens secure access to this region when needed.”
Locals share that skepticism. In their eyes, the airport is yet another piece of infrastructure designed without their involvement, echoing the sentiment that CPEC benefits outsiders far more than the people living here.
Security State Meets ‘Game-Changer’
Balochistan has been the site of a decades-long separatist insurgency. Militant groups argue that the province’s natural resources are being exploited while locals remain shut out of the profits. Chinese workers and Pakistani security forces have become frequent targets in this low-intensity conflict, prompting the state to bolster its presence in Gwadar.
Today, the city is a lattice of watchtowers, razor wire, and military checkpoints. Roads are regularly closed to allow VIP or Chinese convoys to pass. Intelligence officials shadow visiting journalists, sometimes declaring even fishing harbors “off-limits” for reporting.
Seventy-eight-year-old Haji Karim remembers a different Gwadar. “We could go anywhere, anytime, to the mountains, the sea, the villages. No one asked questions,” he says, sitting in the shade of a tea stall. “Now we must prove our identity in our own hometown. The ones asking should first tell us who they are.”
Karim recalls the years when Gwadar was still part of Oman and ferries ran to Bombay. “No one went hungry then. Work was always available. Water was never a problem,” he says. “Now the wells have run dry, and the jobs have gone.”
Jobs Promised, Jobs Missing
Government officials claim CPEC has created around 2,000 local jobs. But “local” is undefined and activists argue that many positions are filled by workers from other provinces. Farooq Baloch, a district political leader, says not a single permanent job at the new airport has gone to a Gwadar resident.
The lack of opportunity has fueled a wave of civil protests. In late 2024, Farooq led a 47-day sit-in demanding better electricity and water services. Authorities promised improvements; months later, residents say nothing has changed.
An Airport Without Flights
Gwadar’s existing airport currently operates just one commercial route — three weekly flights to Karachi. There are no direct connections to Quetta, the provincial capital, or to Islamabad. Road access via the scenic Coastal Highway is hindered by a lack of rest stops, fuel stations, and emergency services.
Security concerns have also shadowed the new airport’s debut. Officials feared the surrounding hills could serve as launch points for militant attacks. The facility’s long-delayed inauguration was ultimately conducted via video link from Islamabad by Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif and his Chinese counterpart Li Qiang. The first flight was closed to the press and public.
The Larger Question
Analysts say the arrival of Chinese capital has brought not only infrastructure but also an intensified security regime, one that has deepened mistrust between locals and the state.
“Until Baloch labor, goods, and services are part of the supply chain, CPEC will remain an abstract concept for ordinary people here,” Qureshi says. “Right now, Islamabad won’t give the Baloch anything, and the Baloch won’t give Islamabad their trust.”
For residents like Karim, the hope is simple: that one day CPEC will deliver the basics, clean water, jobs, and stability, before more mega-projects rise from the dust. “When people have enough to eat,” he says, “they don’t go looking for trouble. But if you keep them angry, it’s never good for anyone.”
